


The Jock and the Farmboy

by SpiceBerry



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Marriage, Oral Sex, Porn, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-28 13:08:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6330475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiceBerry/pseuds/SpiceBerry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new farmer moved into Stardew Valley, and after a whirlwind romance, he found himself marrying Pelican Town's former star gridball player, Alex. What does their new life together hold in store?</p><p>Light-hearted pastoral romantic smut—LiHearPastRomSmu, if you will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wedding Night

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the creator of Stardew Valley, Mr. C. Ape, for your wonderful game, with characters sketched out so carefully with a few pixels and comparatively little dialogue that we all kind of fell in love with way too quickly.
> 
> Dedicated to my husband and our own happily gay married life.

“That was a hell of a wedding, dude.”

“Dude?” 

“Okay, fine. Husband.” Alex kicked the door in to my house—our house—carrying me over the threshold with a bit more effort than he would probably want to admit, his muscular frame just contained in a perfectly tailored black suit with gold buttons and a light blue button up shirt—a far cry from his usual gridball jacket and jeans—his light brown hair gelled up. I was definitely lighter than him, with a fit but lankier build, and taller. 

He gingerly put me down, and swept me up in a kiss, our first since the ceremony. That one was a chaste peck, though; his grandparents were in the audience, after all. This one was different—passionate, a bit rough. His tongue tasted a bit like steak and sweet gem berry wine. Suddenly, I found myself in a bear hug, his cheek rubbing against mine. 

“Your beard feels nice. I love you,” he added. “This is the best thing that could have happened.” 

I shut the door and we slid down the wall in our entryway, still kissing. I rubbed my hands over the taut, broad muscles of his back. 

“Man. You’re beefy. I hope my bed is big enough—and this house.” 

“It’s perfect,” he said. “And you’re getting all firm from the farm work. …Let’s get out of these suits.” 

I started to untie my boots. Alex started laughing. “I can’t believe you wore your farm boots with a tuxedo.” 

They certainly weren’t pretty—sturdy, yes, but covered in mud. I had spent the whole day before the wedding planting yams and cranberries, and scything hay to prepare for winter. 

“To be honest, I got rid of all my formal clothes once I quit my corporate job,” I said, which felt so long ago but really was only the year before. “I borrowed this suit from Demetrius but he didn’t have shoes that fit.” I pulled the boots off, and socks, and put them aside. “And it’s not like I expected to, you know, meet the love of my life the day I moved to Stardew Valley.” 

Alex blushed. “Grandma had this suit in her closet for me, waiting for this day to come. I didn’t think she expected my ‘bride’ to be the new farmboy. But she loves you, and Grandpa George does too. You kept bringing them tulips. And leeks.” 

“Hey that’s what I do. Navigate the intricacies of agricul—“ I was interrupted by another kiss. 

“No more big words from you. Let’s get consummating.” 

———

It was getting dark. My (our!) bedroom was lit by a small lamp, a crackling fire in the fireplace, and the last rays of the sun. All I could hear was the wind through the oak trees, and Alex standing in front of me, breathing heavily. His hands were shaking. 

I took his left hand in mine, entwining our fingers—his were sweaty but surprisingly soft, and mine were already getting rough after almost a year of farming. I gently kissed around the edge of his right ear and down his jawline. He shivered. I reached inside his open suit jacket, and hooked my arms around his waist, feeling his hard body against mine. 

I slipped off his jacket, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the glistening bare chest and six-pack I fell in love with when I watched him lift weights in his old bedroom. I let the shirt fall to the floor, as I rubbed my hands over his pecs, his nipples growing harder. 

“Aw, du—husband. That feels good,” he said, his voice soft. 

My hands moved down. A treasure trail of light brown hair lead down from his bellybutton to below his belt. I unbuckled his belt, and pulled it off in one go, as it made a satisfying zipping sound moving through all the loops. He was visibly hard. I unbuttoned his fly, but his tight suit pants didn’t even sag. 

“Never skip leg day,” he said. “These things are basically painted on.” 

He wasn’t joking. I pulled down hard on his pant legs until they pooled around his feet. His erection formed a tent in his grasshopper-green boxer-briefs, a wet spot of precum growing at the tip, and his thighs were pretty massive—no wonder it was such a struggle getting him undressed. He started to step out of his pants on the floor, and—

Fell backwards. Hard. A painting of blueberries on the far wall fell onto the carpet. Ruffles started barking outside. We burst out laughing. 

“Ok, back to jeans and shorts,” he said, finally kicking off the suit pants into a corner. He started to get up off the floor. 

“Wait. Stay there,” I said. He smiled, leaning back on his elbows, his tanned skin looking especially golden in the sunset and firelight, against my (our!) night sky-patterned carpet. I quickly pulled off my tuxedo jacket, and pants, and hung them up carefully in the closet (they weren’t mine, after all). I undid my cummerbund and bowtie, unbuttoned and took off my dress shirt, and finally stripped off my undershirt, leaving me only in my ore-grey briefs. 

“Nice view,” said Alex. I turned to face him. I had more body hair than him, and my own muscles had developed over three seasons of hard work. My dick was also harder than the night was long, and the winter solstice was coming fast. 

I got down on the carpet and lay on top of Alex. We resumed making out furiously, our rock-hard erections rubbing together through our underwear, my hands tracing the muscles in his arms, his hands moving up and down on my back. I starting to kiss down his body as he arched his back; down his neck, between his pecs, down the light trail of hair between his abs, until I got to the waistband of his boxer-briefs. Then I quickly moved down, and started to kiss down his thick inner thigh. He shivered. As I kissed, I gently, gently dragged my fingertips over the outline of his dick through the green fabric of his boxer-briefs, swirling around the head. 

“Oh man. Oh man.” 

Finally, I grabbed the waistband of his underwear, and managed to pull them off in one go this time. His released cock sprang up. I moved back up his thigh, and took one of his balls into my mouth, lapping at it with my tongue. 

“Dude. Dude-husband. Dude!”

I licked up the shaft of his dick, slowly, slowly, and then quickly engulfed the whole thing in my mouth, my tongue swirling around the head, my hands rubbing up and down his inner thighs. His precum was salty, and a little sweet; mostly, he tasted like Alex.

“Holy shit,” he said under his breath. 

I moved my mouth up and down his shaft for a couple of minutes, my tongue in constant motion, my hands moving across his body, feeling the hardness and strength of the muscles he worked so hard at. 

Suddenly, he tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up at him, his cock still in my mouth. He smiled and then, still lying down, he pivoted, and in a quick motion, his legs were in front of me and he was under me. He pulled off my briefs, and took me into his mouth, as I continued to suck him. His blowjob was inexperienced, a little toothy, but enthusiastic. It wasn’t long before I could feel something building, and I continued to do the things to his dick that would make him groan even when his mouth was full. 

I pulled out of his mouth, and turned around to straddle him, our dicks against each other. I reached behind me to pull a box out from under my bed, and pulled a small vial from there. 

“What’s that?” 

“Lube,” I said. “Made it myself. Didn’t want to use that crappy JoJa Jelly stuff.” 

“You’re really all-in when it comes to this DIY stuff, aren’t you,” he said. “What’s it made of?”

“You know how in this mines, there are those sli—“ 

“You know what? Never mind. I trust you.” 

I poured some of it into my palm, then used a couple of fingers to prepare myself; the rest I used to slick up his dick. Still straddling him, I lowered myself onto his cock, slowly; he was pretty big, but I took my time, and my own dick was still dripping precum. I felt his the head of his cock pop in. 

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, as I lowered myself down further onto his shaft, inch by inch, until I could feel his balls against my ass. 

“You’re in,” I said. “I’m going to start moving.” 

He nodded, his face flushed red. With a slow pace at first, and then faster, I rode his dick, my hands continuing to explore his chest, and then I grabbed his shoulders so I had more leverage. 

“Fuck. You’re so tight,” he said. “Oh fuck. I’m so glad I moved to this farm. Fuck!”

I started jacking myself off with my right hand, and squeezed my ass muscles in time with my motions; he started to thrust to match my speed, his hands on my shoulders, both of us covered in sweat. 

It didn’t take much more. I thrust down hard a few more times, and he started to have a glazed look in his eyes; I could feel his balls tightening up, and mine too. 

“Oh man! OH MAN!” he shouted as he came hard inside of me, one pump after another, filling me with warmth. I panted as I came too, ropes of cum shooting across his chest, some landing on his cheek. His cock slid out of me, and I rolled off him to lay beside him on the carpet. 

“Something… about… a… touchdown,” I said, too tired to think of the right joke. 

“Something… about… farmers… and… seed,” he said, between heavy breaths. 

The last of the sun’s rays were gone. The wind had died down, and all that was left was the crackling of the fire, Alex’s breathing, and the sound of his heartbeat, as I laid my head on his chest, and he started to run his fingers through my hair. 

“I love you, husband” he said. “I like married life already.” 

“I love you too, husband” I said. “I’m so glad you live here with me now. We should actually get in bed now, though, maybe. It’s a long day tomorrow.” 

“That reminds me,” said Alex. “I want to be helpful to you while I’m here. What can I do tomorrow to make your life easier?”

“It’s okay, just relax.” 

“Ain’t gonna happen,” he said. “I’m not going to let myself get lazy.” 

“Okay, fine,” I said. I mean, I guess you can refill Ruffles’ water bowl. And put out hay for the chickens and cows.”

“Water bowl and chickens. Got it.” 

“And, I mean, the yams will need some watering. And I think we have to give Caroline a pumpkin before the Spirit Festival. And we need to forage for some hazelnuts, and take a few geodes to the blacksmith, and visit Marnie to get a heater for the coop, and…” 

Alex was already snoring. I kissed his cheek and soon fell into a deep sleep, feeling every trace of loneliness drift away like a moon jelly on the ocean tide, twinkling on the horizon and then vanishing.


	2. Hops

“Isn’t… this… better… than… gridball?” I said, trying to catch my breath. 

“I… will… pretend… you… didn’t… say… that,” said Alex, his chest heaving. 

He threw the hoe down onto the newly-tilled soil. 

“It’s almost winter!” he said, rubbing his hands to get some feeling back into them; his breath fogged a little. “Why are we still plowing again?” And then, under his breath, “That’s what she sa—he said.” 

I snorted. “There’s just enough time to get one round of beets to grow before the snow hits,” I said, scattering seeds in the new ruts. “Then no more farming until spring, I promise.” 

“Thank Yoba. That’ll be a relief. You deserve a break.”

“Yep, no farming. Just some casual mining. And fishing. Crafting. Some cheese-making. Gotta make sure the cows and chickens are happy. And I really need to bring those geodes to the blacksm—“ 

He interrupted me with a kiss. His mouth was surprisingly warm despite the morning chill. 

“Sorry about that,” I said after a few moments. “Sometimes my life feels like a big ‘To Do’ list.” 

“I’m hope I’m on the top of it, baby,” he said, in his best dumb jock voice. It never failed to work on me. I punched him in the arm. 

“Come on,” I said. “I have something to show you.” 

“Out here?” he said, a bit shocked. “But… but it’s cold.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter. Actually, don’t. Don’t you dare. But I had something else in mind.”

———

I took him by the hand and led him to the field just behind our house, noting approvingly that his hands were getting rougher after a couple of weeks of helping out on the farm. He’d settled into the lifestyle—married, farmer, married farmer—surprisingly quickly, getting the hang of crop-growing, milking cows, and feeding chickens, leaving me to do more in the mines (though he was always pretty nervous), forage, and do favours for people. Sometimes his family dog, Dusty, would come over to romp in the fields with Ruffles, and the chickens; most of the time, though, Dusty stayed with his grandparents in Pelican Town to keep them company between Alex’s visits. 

We arrived at the kegs, notably bigger than they were just a few weeks ago, the oak wood swelling with the pressure that had built within. They were ready; I had tapped this one this morning. I produced a couple of beer glasses that I had wrapped in a scarf and put into my backpack. 

“Hey!” said Alex, immediately perking up. “I’m all for this.” 

Tipping a glass under the tap, I pulled the lever, and poured us two pints of fresh-brewed pale ale, handing one to him. We clinked our glasses. 

“To marriage,” he said. “And hard work.”

“To Stardew Valley,” I said. He downed half a pint in one go; throwback to his frat days (and, maybe, an impressive lack of gag reflex). 

I tried to do the same, and stopped a few gulps through. I frowned. 

“What’s wrong?” he said. “You look disappointed.” 

“It’s… really hoppy.” 

“Well, yeah,” he said. “It’s a pale ale. You grew the hops all summer. Then you put them into the brew. You said you were going to call it ‘Hop Right Now Thank You Very Much.’ Why do you seem so surprised?” 

“I don’t really like hoppy beers. I think I have been trying to convince myself otherwise. I thought it would be different this time, you know, and all those craft beer brewing magazines are so into them, and Pierre was really excited about this hop starter, and—“

Again, interrupted with a kiss. Then a lick. “You had some foam in your beard, dude. Also, this is great. I’ll happily drink whatever we don’t sell. And stop reading so much, you’re married to me now.” 

I laughed, returning the kiss. Maybe it was the day-drinking, but Alex was blushing harder than ever. And, maybe, something else was getting harder too. 

“Let’s—go—back—inside,” he said in between little pecks. I nodded. He took our empty glasses in with one hand, and with the other, threw me over his shoulder like I was a bale of hay, and started jogging towards our front door. Somewhere, a cock crowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m glad so many of you are enjoying this so far! (I promise smut every other chapter, at least.) Comments and ideas always appreciated!


End file.
